Teenage pregnancy: a national talking point

Why is the UK the teenage pregnancy capital of Europe, asks Max Pemberton.

Why does the UK have such a problem with teenage pregnancy?Photo: GETTY

By Max Pemberton

7:00AM BST 13 Jul 2009

"It's perfectly normal to have a child when you're 15 or 16," said Rhiannon, "that's what these girls think. For them it's not a big deal. That's the problem." I nodded slowly. "It's almost infectious," continued Rhiannon, "one girl gets pregnant and then over the course of a few months, all her friends fall pregnant, too. By the time they get to see me, it's too late to do anything to change things," she added with a shrug of resignation.

Rhiannon is an old school friend, and after graduating as a midwife she started working in a unit for teenage mothers. She gives a horrifying insight into the problem of teenage pregnancy in this country; young girls barely able to take responsibility for themselves, let alone another human being, incapable of seeing the repercussions of their actions, dependent on the state, not believing that there could have been another way. The problem of teenage pregnancy in this country has become a national talking point. Some blame the government, some the schools, others parents. Some argue for more sex education, others, less.

While there are many theories as to how to tackle the apparent epidemic, interventions to date have proved bafflingly ineffective. Only last week, the Government abandoned it's £5.9m Young People's Development Programme, aimed at reducing the rates of teenage pregnancies, after research showed that teenagers who took part were actually more likely to fall pregnant than those who didn't.

In hindsight, it appears that putting groups of disadvantaged, vulnerable teenagers deemed at risk of having sex and falling pregnant together has the opposite effect to those intended. So exactly what is the solution? It would be unfair to say that all teenage pregnancies are a disaster. But for a large proportion, motherhood so young limits their choices and strips them of a life before they are even adults. It is also expensive: teenage pregnancies cost the government an estimated £63million a year.

But what is puzzling is why the UK in particular should have such a problem. It would appear that there is something unique in the social make-up of the UK, which makes us the pregnancy capital of Europe. The usual reasons opined about the causes of teenage pregnancy – the pervasiveness of sex in the media, the sexualisation of youth, the breaking down of the taboo of sex outside marriage and so on – are similar across Europe. Other European teens have access to the internet, are bombarded by raunchy images in pop music, have similar amounts of sex education in schools, for example. What makes the UK different?

From talking to Rhiannon and having worked with teenage mothers myself, I wonder if the answer doesn't lie in the coalescence of two quintessentially British characteristics: prudishness and a rigid class structure.

Firstly, while we enjoy references to sex in an end-of-the-pier, titillating way, in our collective consciousness we remain relatively embarrassed by it, especially when compared to the rest of Europe. Parents shy away from discussing this with their children, preferring to leave it to the state, and in so doing miss out on an opportunity to impart some clear, authoritative moral guidance in a way that the state cannot hope to do.

So as children have become increasingly bombarded with references to sex, our prudishness has meant that this has not been parried by an increase in a corresponding guiding voice. Instead, it remains at a 1950s whisper. But secondly – while it's distinctly un-'Cool Britannia' to say it – this is a class issue.

We in Britain remain tightly bound by class in a way that other nations are not. Teenagers from lower socio-economic groups are disproportionally likely to get pregnant. Girls from working-class families are 10 times more likely to become teenage mothers than those from affluent, middle-class backgrounds. For children from working-class families, where aspiration is considered middle class, choices in life consist of becoming a celebrity, working in a shop or becoming a mum.

The Holy Grail is ready access to a council flat and state benefits, which is precisely what having a baby gives you. Is it any wonder that disadvantaged teenagers see having a baby as something normal? They see their friends doing it and it gives them status, somewhere independent to live and meaning in their lives. Seen like this, giving 'at risk' teenagers sex education and telling them to use condoms is futile. They need to be given an alternative to having a baby. It's not more sex education that they need, but plain, simple education.

'Trust Me, I'm a Junior Doctor' by Max Pemberton is published by Hodder. To order a copy for just £11.99 + £1.25 p&p, call Telegraph Books on 0870 428 4112